


Imposter Syndrome

by cailures



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Also some lol men being lol men because canon compliant, Gen, and some asshole named Chad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:45:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cailures/pseuds/cailures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy Carter prided herself on not being surprised which was why she was very irritated at herself while watching Thursday evening's news. Apparently, at least according to the newscaster, Steve Rogers -- Captain America -- was alive and had just revealed himself in New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imposter Syndrome

**Author's Note:**

> For #14

Peggy Carter prided herself on not being surprised which was why she was very irritated at herself while watching Thursday evening's news. Apparently, at least according to the newscaster, Steve Rogers -- Captain America -- was alive and had just revealed himself in New York City.

Peggy stared at the screen. Mr. Jarvis stared at Peggy. The newscaster - Peggy suddenly couldn't remember the man's name - was jabbering on over footage of this man who claimed to be Steve waving at crowds and posing dramatically. "The long-missing hero claimed he had been deep undercover in Europe--"

"Please turn it off," Peggy said, closing her eyes. Steve? Alive? That couldn't be possible. She'd heard him die. He wouldn't have hidden from her, this must be a trick, a ridiculous hoax being played on the American public. Perhaps a publicity stunt by some All-American brand to drum up interest in their breakfast cereal. 

As Jarvis turned the television off, Peggy stood up and started pacing around Howard's ridiculously ostentatious living room. If this were a publicity stunt, it was in poor taste, but not something she really needed to worry about. But what if it wasn't a publicity stunt? What if it was something... attempting to be legitimate? Wasn't it her duty, as a member of the SSR, to investigate?

“Miss Carter? Are you alright?” 

Peggy turned to look at Jarvis. “Yes, of course,” she lied. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts. Should we contact someone in New York? Should she return to New York and investigate this… this… impostor before he could do something? Should she wait for someone to call her to investigate? Of course someone would call her. Someone would want her to be involved. Unless it was a publicity stunt. “I’m going to go for a walk,” she said, turning away. 

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“Mr. Jarvis, unless you’re worried about my being hit with a freeze ray, I assure you that anyone who attempts to interrupt my walk will be dealt with appropriately,” Peggy snapped. “I am perfectly capable of keeping myself safe.”

“Of course, Miss Carter,” Jarvis said. “I meant— are you sure you don’t want company?”

Peggy felt her shoulders drop, just a little. She hadn’t realised how tense she was. “Oh. No, I think I should be alone. Clear my head. Thank you, though. That was very kind.”

Jarvis nodded, but didn’t say anything as Peggy gathered her coat and hat.

* * * 

“Yes, of course I understand that you have perfectly capable agents in New York City,” Peggy snapped. “I did work with you all, I know what you’re capable of. However, no one there actually _knew_ Steve Rogers, and none of you could be certain of identifying him accurately.”

“Peggy.” Agent Yauch was clearly trying to soothe Peggy, and she stifled down her annoyance. Some men were just big-headed jackasses, and no amount of being competent or saving the day in front of them would convince them of a woman’s worth. “I know you’re very emotionally invested in Captain America—”

“No I am not,” she snapped again. So much for stifling her annoyance. “I am concerned that someone may be impersonating Steve Rogers for personal gain.”

“Of course. Steve Rogers.” Peggy could practically hear his eyes rolling, and imagined Yauch putting a hand over the receiver and making faces at the other men in office. “But don’t you think you should wait and see if Captain Rogers wants to see you before you come all the way out here?”

Peggy counted to ten in her head. Then she counted to ten again, in French. And German. She took a deep breath. “That is part of my point. If this man was really who he says he is, there are people he would contact, people he would reach out to.” _Including me._ “It’s not at all likely that Steve Rogers, who hated everything to do with being Captain Bloody America, would just show up in New York City practically demanding a ticker-tape parade and signing autographs. Steve Rogers would instead reach out to his friends, the men he fought for.” _And me._ “He wouldn’t go for this publicity!”

“But why, exactly, would someone be impersonating Captain Amer— Steve Rogers, Peggy?” She now pictured Yauch gesturing at the listening men to indicate that she was clearly insane. 

“I don’t know, and that’s why the SSR should bring me out there. To investigate. To figure out what’s really going on.”

“Tell you what,” Yauch was clearly done with this conversation. “I’ll get some of our guys to go out there and talk to him, and get one of them to write you up a nice report, okay? You just stay put there in Hollywood doing whatever it is you and Sousa do down there, okay sweetheart?”

Peggy considered asking Howard to invent a way of literally killing a man through the phone, considered what Howard would actually do with such a request, and put it aside. For now. “Whatever you think is best,” she lied. “But please do be sure to send _someone_ to do so. If this man is an impostor - and he most certain is - then he could be using this to gain access to government information under false pretenses.”

“Sure thing, Peg.” Yauch said. “We’ll keep in touch. Don’t call us, okay? We’ll call you.”

After hanging up, Peggy sat down and rubbed her temples. She tried not to think about Steve Rogers and the last time she saw him. She tried not to think about their ridiculous plan to go dancing after the war. She tried especially hard not to think about his plane going down into the ice, about the way drowning was the most painful way to die. She tried very hard not to think about anything at all.

Instead of thinking, she forced herself to stand up and walk into Sousa’s office. “I’m taking some time off,” she said.

“What?” He looked up from the files on his desk. “No, of course you’re not. I need you here.”

“I’m a delicate woman who has been very deeply affected by everything that happened with Frost,” she said. “I need some time to attend to my womanly needs.”

Sousa stared at her incredulously. “That is the most absurd thing you have ever said to me.”

“Of course it’s not. I’ve said much more absurd things. I need some time off. I need to go back to New York for a week.”

“Peggy, sincerely. I need you here. You’re my best agent. You’re the only person who seems to be able to see everything going on here. Is this some sort of thing where you’re looking for a raise, because I don’t have any space in the budget.”

Peggy stared at him. “Does that sound like something I’d do?”

“Stranger things have happened. We need you looking for Dottie Underwood, Peggy. She’s obsessed with you. You’re the ideal person to be on the case.”

“I will be back in a week. If Dottie Underwood is obsessed with me, she’ll either stay put until I get back, or she’ll follow me to New York. Either way, you’ll be fine without me for a week.”

“What happens if I say no?”

“I quit.” She hadn’t realised how serious she was about that until she said it, but it was true. Yes, giving up on being an SSR agent would be a terrible thing, but this was more important. This _impostor_ was more important.

“Fine. One week. I expect you back here next Monday without missing a beat, Carter. Now get out of my office.”

Peggy nodded. “Thank you, Daniel.”

“Don’t make me regret this, Peggy.”

* * *

Peggy closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of New York air. It smelled the same as it had when she left just a few months ago - of course it did. How silly to imagine that anything would be that different just because she was. Hollywood had changed her. Dottie Underwood’s strange obsession had changed her. But New York - New York was the same.  
“English!” Angie was waving at her, grinning. Peggy allowed Angie to hug her tightly. “It so great to see you! I can’t wait to hear about the stars you met! Is Hollywood really as glamorous as it looks in the movies?”

“Nothing is as glamorous as it looks in the movies,” Peggy said. “But it’s certainly… an experience.” She smiled, looking Angie over. “You look amazing, Angie. Thank you so much for being willing to take me in on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Angie said, waving her hand. “We’ll have fun, right?”

“I do have work to do,” Peggy warned as they headed towards the exit of the airport. Jarvis had insisted on her taking an uncomfortably large amount of cash with her, for ‘incidental expenses’. Ana had winked at her and assured her that Howard wouldn’t mind. Peggy hadn’t bothered to argue, knowing that Howard would want this impostor gotten rid of as surely as Peggy did. Regardless, Peggy had more than enough money to afford a cab to Angie’s small apartment.

“I know, but you can’t be working all the time. Also, I’m doing work, too! I’m going to be doing some of the waitressing at this reception the city is holding for Captain America.” She looked a little star-struck at the idea. “I mean, the Broadway stuff isn’t constant, so I need do some catering work on the side, and this is going to be much nicer than working at some dive serving assholes, right?”

Peggy blinked. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? You’re working a reception for this man claiming to be Captain America?”

Angie smiled. “Yes! I’m hoping to get close enough to see if those muscles are real or just padding.” She waggled her eyebrows at Peggy. “May as well get something out of it, right?”

Peggy stared at her. “Angie, can you get me into that reception? As a server?”

“I— Yes, but— Peggy, you’re hurting me.” Peggy blinked, only then realising she had grabbed Angie by the shoulders and was squeezing. “Geeze, English, I didn’t realise you Brits were into real American beefcake.”

“I’m sorry,” Peggy repeated. “I— It’s complicated.” She faked a laugh. “You know how uptight us English are.”

Angie nodded, still looking a bit taken aback by Peggy’s intensity. Peggy made a mental note to make it up to her. “The reception is this evening,” Angie said. “It won’t be hard to get you in as a waitress.”

“Thank you,” Peggy said, taking a deep breath as they slipped into a waiting cab. She leaned back against the seat as Angie gave the driver the address. Things were going to happen faster than she’d hoped, but maybe this would be best.

* * *

The reception for the impostor was far more glitzy than she thought Steve would have appreciated. City dignitaries were there, shaking hands and getting their photos taken with Captain America. The wealthy toasted each other as they swarmed the hotel ballroom and gossiped about the people who weren’t there. She imagined Steve, growing up in a poor neighbourhood in Brooklyn, would have been uncomfortable. This impostor, though, looked like he was having the time of his life. Steve had been a decent enough actor when he needed to be, but she didn’t think he could have pulled this off.

Peggy kept a wary eye on the crowd as she carried glasses of champagne around the room. She wasn’t yet in a position to get close enough to the impostor to one hundred percent confirm her suspicions. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to convince everyone else he was an impostor. She needed to know why this man was pretending to be Steve, pretending to like all the things Steve hated, what his actual plan was. Was he with the same Russian group as Dottie Underwood? Was he representing something else? Peggy needed to know before she could reveal his deception. 

As her mind whirled through possibilities, she continued to smile politely and hand out glasses of champagne. She deftly dodged a few groping hands from the crowd, reminding herself that upending a tray of champagne on the Chief of Police would not help her get closer to the impostor. She listened to the crowd’s chatter, trying to get an idea of what could really be going on—

Her blood froze. She must have misheard, but that voice— She tried to turn around very slowly, to not bring any attention to herself, her eyes scanning the crowd while trying to look calm. She was certain she had just heard Dottie Underwood’s laugh, someplace in the crowd. Paranoia? Or was this thus further proof that the impostor was sent by the same group that had tried to blow up the entire SSR, had sent Dottie, had tried to kill her and Howard?

She noticed Angie, making a bee-line towards the impostor, a single glass of champagne on her tray. She watched the way Angie’s gait turned a bit more seductive, a bit more inviting, as she carried what was clearly meant to be a special drink just for Captain America himself, before some man stepped in front of Angie. Angie stopped moving, frowned, said something that Peggy could tell was angry. Putting aside Dottie Underwood for now, Peggy started moving towards Angie, determined to stave off whatever was about to happen.

A woman Peggy didn’t recognize put her hand on the man’s arm and looked up at him admiringly. She was pointedly ignoring Angie, who was trying to get away to deliver her drink. By then, Peggy was close enough to hear the conversation. “Come on, Chad,” the woman was saying, her voice sweet. “Just let this woman do her job.”

“Yeah, _Chad_ ,” Angie said, her voice dripping with scorn. “Just let me do my job.”

The man glowered at Angie. “Well, of course. You’re a waitress, aren’t you? Wait.” He grabbed the drink off Angie’s tray before she could stop him. “And get another drink for Mimi here, would you?” he said, turning his back.

Angie’s face went scarlet. Peggy reached out a hand to touch her, and Angie jumped. “Peggy,” she said, her voice strained. 

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” Angie said. “We used to date. It ended badly when I realised he thought I would be easy because I was a waitress. Not the sort of girl you bring home to ‘mummy’,” she said with disdain. Peggy glared at Chad’s back as he drank Angie’s special drink for Captain America, laughing and offering it some of it to Mimi. 

Angie took a deep breath. “Well, nothing for it,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’ll just… get another tray of drinks, I guess—”

Before she could even finish what she was saying, Chad suddenly fell to the floor, coughing, his face turning bright red. Mimi screamed, and the room suddenly went silent. “Chad! Chad! Baby!” As Chad started foaming at the mouth, his face going from red to purple, Mimi also fell to the ground, choking as well.  “You!” she shouted, pointing at Angie. “You poisoned him!”

“What? No, what?” Angie cried out. Suddenly, the room was in motion. Wealthy people moved closer to the action, seeming excited to see something so dramatic in their midst. The Chief of Police started moving towards Angie, someone shouted “I’m a doctor, let me through,” and started pushing against the crowd. Peggy shook herself, moved towards the dying man and woman, thinking about whether mouth-to-mouth recitation would help with poisoning. Everything seemed to slow down for her as she tried to get to Chad or Mimi, who had started foaming at the mouth and convulsing as well. 

The doctor was already next to Chad, trying to pry open his mouth. Peggy knelt down next to Mimi, pulling off her belt and trying to get the leather strap between the woman’s teeth so she wouldn’t bite her tongue while convulsing. This looked too fast, too sudden for any regular poisoning. She thought about all the poisons she knew, their symptoms. This was something like arsenic poisoning, but she didn’t remember that having convulsions.

“Peggy!” Angie cried, and Peggy looked up to see Angie being grabbed by the Chief of Police and two police officers. “Peggy!” she cried out again, her eyes wide. Peggy stood up, looking around the room, trying to figure out some way of getting Angie out of there, getting her away from these false accusations—

She caught sight of the impostor then, his eyes wide as he watched Chad and Mimi slowly stop convulsing on the floor. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even made a step in their direction. Further proof this man wasn’t Steve Rogers, no matter what he claimed when signing autographs. Behind him, though, she suddenly spotted Dottie, dressed exactly as Peggy would have been had she been to this event as a guest instead of a server. Dottie locked eyes with Peggy and her whole face lit up. “Peggy!” she mouthed, and waved, then pointed at Angie. Peggy turned back to Angie, now being gripped tightly by the two officers while the Chief of Police looked at the doctor. Peggy quickly turned back to look for Dottie just in time to catch the woman slipping out a back entrance.

“Peggy!” Angie sounded terrified. Peggy took another moment to look after Dottie before turning back to Angie. She closed most of the distance between them before the doctor stood up and shook his head.

“Dead,” he said, gesturing at Chad and Mimi. “There’s nothing more to do for them.”

“Well, young lady, it’s best we take you down to the station for questioning, then, isn’t it?” The Chief of Police sounded smug.

“Angie,” Peggy reached her side. The officers stopped her from getting closer, from reaching out to touch Angie, but the other woman turned at the sound of her voice. Angie’s face was white. “Angie, I’ll get this sorted. I know you didn’t do it.”

“Peggy, don’t let them—”

Before Peggy could say anything, the two officers hauled Angie away. 

* * *

Peggy was torn in three different directions. Should she follow Angie and get her out of jail? Surely the officers would figure out quickly that Angie wasn’t the type of person to poison someone. But Angie was pretty naive, as these things went, and innocent people had ended up in jail over crimes they hadn’t committed before. Should she follow the impostor? Getting close to him should be easy in all this chaos. The party was clearly at an end, although in her experience with the wealthy elites they’d probably want to stand around and watch as the coroner came to haul away the bodies. The perfect story to dine out on for weeks after. “I was there when those two dear souls died,” they say, even if they’d never spoken to Chad or Mimi in their lives. Or should she chase after Dottie Underwood, try and corner her and demand to know if she had anything to do with the poisoning, with the impostor, with everything that was making Peggy’s life an utter disaster.

Focus. One thing at a time. The impostor hadn’t moved, was still staring at Chad and Mimi, his face the colour of skimmed milk. Like he had never seen a dead body before. If Peggy hadn’t already known that this man wasn’t Steve, she would have known it for certain at that moment. Steve had seen more dead bodies than he had ever wanted to, and wouldn’t have frozen like that.

She settled herself mentally and moved towards the impostor. “Captain America?” she said softly as she got close enough. “My name is Agent Peggy Carter, I’m with the Strategic Scientific Reserve, the SSR. Please come with me, Sir.” The impostor turned to look at her, his eyes wide. He nodded once, firmly.

“Lead on, Agent Carter,” he said, his voice shaking. He clearly didn’t recognize her name. This close to him, Peggy could see all the small things that someone who didn’t know Steve personally wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes weren’t quite the right shade, his hair wasn’t right (although she couldn’t put her finger on how). His booming Captain America voice had been a spot on imitation, but his quiet voice was nothing like Steve’s. He didn’t smell right.

But otherwise it had been a good imitation. When he followed her, he walked like Captain America. He stood like Captain America. He smiled like Captain America. It was as though this impostor, whoever he was, had studied everything in the newsreels, had maybe even seen Steve live. He’d made a study of Captain America, and put on a perfect performance. No wonder most people had fallen for it. They’d always preferred the be-suited hero to the young man Steve had been.

Peggy hadn’t been expecting how her heart would suddenly feel heavy in her chest. No matter what she had said, she’d wanted it to be true. She’d wanted this man to be Steve. She’d wanted Steve to have made it home. Even if he didn’t remember her, even if he’d hated her. Even if he’d forgotten everything somehow. She’d wanted that man to be alive. She’d wanted to believe it was true.

Peggy had never hated anyone as much as she hated the man she was leading into the back hallways of the hotel. She was going to enjoy finding out who this impostor was. She was going to make him regret the moment someone had suggested impersonating Steve Rogers to him. 

Peggy led him through the hallways of the hotel and ducked into the unlocked laundry room. Piles and piles of towels, sheets, and blankets filled the room, all neatly folded. The washing machines were quiet for the day. The smell of bleach filled the room. This would be perfect.

“Agent Carter,” the impostor said, his voice slipping back into his Captain America boom. “Thank you—”

Before he could finish, Peggy turned around and knocked his feet out from under him. The impostor was startled, hadn’t even taken the time to defend himself. He cried out, startled, but before he could do anything Peggy grabbed a heavy bottle of bleach and hit him in the stomach with it, knocking the breath out of him. He cried out again, covering his face and head. Peggy sneered, moved to kick him hard in the side. Or the testicles. Someplace that would _hurt_.

The impostor had curled up in the fetal position, trying to keep himself safe. Peggy kicked, hard, at his back, heard him cry out in pain and shock again. “Please—” he cried out. “Not like this, please!”

Peggy gritted her teeth, prepared to drag him up, hold him against the wall, choke him until he told her what she wanted to know. She imagined hitting him in his stupid face, breaking his nose, breaking his _teeth_ for lying to her, for lying to everyone, for putting that false hope— She forced him onto his back, straddle him, prepared to punch him in his smug, useless, lying face.

Steve’s face, but not quite. He was crying, was clearly terrified, was clearly _not_ preparing to defend himself. Was probably not able to defend himself, not against her. She froze again, looking down at him.

“Please, not like this,” the impostor whimpered. “I know you have to kill me, but not like this.”

Peggy blinked. The impostor still cringed underneath her, but she couldn’t move. What sort of person had she become that she would look forward to hurting someone, fantasize so intensely about making this person hurt? This person who was clearly in over his head. What would Steve think of this kind of bullying?

She took a long deep breath. She counted to ten in German, then French, then Russian, then English. She took another deep breath. The man cringing underneath her stopped shaking, looked up at her in confusion.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s actually going on,” Peggy said, her voice shaking.

* * *

The impostor’s name turned out to be Sebastian Evans. He was younger than Steve by a few years, too young to enlist, but more than one person had mistaken him for Captain America. He’d started being a Captain America impersonator, making money as an attraction during the war and afterward. 

He shrugged. “It was a living,” he explained. “It made more money than working in factories, and I didn’t get questioned about why I wasn’t off with the troops.” 

Peggy finished cleaning up his face. The blood was mostly from the fall, and she was fairly certain his nose wasn’t broken.

“Then what happened?” She started examining his torso, checking for internal injuries.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sick,” he said. “I’m dying. The doc thinks I maybe have six months. Maybe not even.”

Peggy stopped her ministrations. “With what?” He was so young, he looked healthy. But looks could be deceiving, she reminded herself.

He shrugged. “Something to do with radiation, I don’t know. I don’t care. I know it’s happening. Every day it’s a bit more obvious. I’m getting so tired, Agent Carter.” His shoulders slumped. “I wanted— I didn’t want to go out like that. Slowly. Unknown. I couldn’t stand it.”

No internal injuries that Peggy could detect. “Then what?”

“I wanted to go out with a bang, you know? I didn’t want to disappear, without anyone to mourn me. I wanted my death to be….” He shrugged again. “Dramatic.”

Peggy nodded. “So that’s why you decided to be Captain America in the big city?”

“I thought that I could just do it for a few days, you know? Just enough to get some attention, get to talk to famous people, to feel heroic for a moment, you know? Not for long.” He sighed. “I took the money I made before, and spent it on hiring someone to ‘kill’ me.”

“You what?” Peggy stared at him. “What were you thinking? What about your family? What about Steve’s family?” _What about me?_

“I don’t have a family, Agent Carter,” he said. “I don’t have anyone, anymore.”

Peggy sighed. “Alright. So, you hired someone to assassinate ‘Captain America’?”

“Yes. But— I thought—” He suddenly went pale again. “Those two— were they my fault? I told the person that I didn’t want to know how they killed Captain America, just as long as they did it. As long as it was in public. I wanted Captain America’s death to be dramatic, too.”

Peggy stared at Sebastian, thinking how young and stupid he was. Too young to be dying, but that was true of so many young men who were dead. The only explanation she could come up with for the evening’s events were that he had somehow managed to hire Dottie Underwood for his suicide plot, and that neither one of them had considered for a moment that their plan might go awry, might suck in other innocent people who were just victims of his stupidity and her lack of concern.

“What did you think would happen?”

He sighed. “I thought— I don’t know, I thought that anyone who would be willing to murder Captain America would either not get caught or probably deserved to be caught. I thought it would be fast and painless. I thought— I thought no one else would get hurt, just me.”

Peggy put a hand on his. “Sebastian. Those people are dead because your assassin was trying to kill you, using my friend to deliver the poison. Now she’s being questioned by the police, the person you hired has gotten away, and probably will be trying again because she’s a professional and won’t want any loose ends like you being alive to trip her up.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with that part. I’m sorry about those other people, but—”

“But nothing,” Peggy snapped. “There’s no ‘but’ about this. Those people are dead. You can’t bring them back.”

“What am I supposed to do instead?” His voice shook and he started to cry. “I can’t bring them back.”

Damn it. He certainly as a pretty crier, which must be a useful skill. It probably got him out of trouble all the time. “You can come with me to the police station, confess everything, and at least get Angie off the hook for your stupidity.”

Sebastian stared at her. “You can’t be serious,” he said, his lips trembling. Good Lord. “I can’t tell them I’m an impostor. They’ll all hate me.”

“I do not care,” Peggy said. “I do not care if everyone in the entire world hates you. You pretended to be Captain America so you could die dramatically and feel like a hero. Do something bloody heroic and get Angie out of this mess _you_ created.”

Before Sebastian could respond, the door to the laundry room clicked open. “Peggy!” Dottie Underwood cried out happily. “How delightful to find you here!” She closed the door behind her. “And with Captain America himself.” She smiled. “This will be fun,” she said as she locked the door.

* * *

Peggy allowed herself exactly half a second to regret not having brought a gun, but even then her body was already moving, already trying to get the upper hand against Dottie. No matter what she did, Dottie Underwood, trained since childhood to be an assassin, was always going to have the upper hand. All Peggy could do is try to make it out of the encounter alive, and hopefully keep Sebastian alive as well. 

Dottie’s smile didn’t waver as she leapt towards Peggy, her fingers curled into claws. Peggy ducked, rolled towards the bleach bottle she’d picked up earlier, grabbing it and throwing it at Dottie’s head. Dottie laughed, easily dodging it. “Peg, darling,” she said, never breaking her smile. “You’ll have to do better than that.” She sounded almost disappointed.

Peggy didn’t let Dottie distract her. She needed to get to the door, unlock it, get Sebastian out of there. She just needed Sebastian alive, to get him to confess to his idiotic scheme, so he could get Angie out of jail. The rest didn’t matter as much. Peggy always knew she was expendable.

“Didn’t you used to date Captain America here?” Dottie asked as she twisted into a kick that Peggy couldn’t dodge. It slammed the breath out of her, strong enough to knock into the nearest wall. “Did you come all the way from Hollywood to save him? That’s so sad.” She aimed another kick at Peggy’s head. Peggy rolled, just barely getting out of the way, and managed to grab Dottie’s ankle and pull the other woman off balance for just a moment.

It wasn’t enough to stop her, of course, but it slowed her just enough for Peggy to get back up on her feet, to dodge out of the way of the series of punches that came at her head. She tried to concentrate on breathing through the pain, wondered if Dottie had managed to break something after all. She needed a plan. A distraction. Something.

“I thought you were smarter than this, Dottie,” Peggy gasped out as she grabbed the nearest shelf of towels. With a sharp tug she knocked the entire thing onto the ground, hoping to catch the other woman. Sadly, Dottie dodged out of the way, but at least now the shelving was between them. She had a bit of breathing room.  “This isn’t Captain America.”

“Are you so certain? Isn’t he your _lover_?” Dottie seemed to relish in the word. “Maybe he’s just forgotten you. Maybe you never mattered that much to him.” She started coming towards Peggy again. A sudden kick that Peggy couldn’t dodge or block, and Peggy saw stars as her knee collapsed underneath her. “Maybe you never mattered that much to anyone,” she said, kicking Peggy in the knee again. Peggy couldn’t stop herself from a shriek of pain. “Maybe the only reason you matter is because you’re pretty, and we can do something about that, can’t we?” Dottie sounded so sweet as she raised her leg to kick Peggy again. 

“That’s not the American Way!” cried Captain America suddenly to her left. Peggy barely saw Sebastian as he smashed the large bottle of bleach into Dottie’s head. “In America, we treat ladies with respect!” He hit her again, twice. “And I’m here to tell you, you ain’t no lady!”

Dottie, either stunned by the bottle of bleach or by the terrible lines, fell to her knees. Her head was bleeding. Sebastian looked down at Peggy. “Should I hit her again?”

“Yes!” Peggy shouted. Like a good soldier, Sebastian complied. The last blow seemed to be enough, and Dottie slumped down. 

Sebastian took a deep breath, visibly shaking. He turned back to Peggy, offered her a hand up.

“‘That’s not the American way?’” she mimicked.

“I’m not good at the quips,” he said. “It’s harder than he made it look. Were you two really…” his voice trailed off.

Peggy thought about Steve. She thought about all the young men she’d sent off to war, to fight, to die. She thought about all the ones who came back. She closed her eyes. “No,” she lied. “But I knew him. He was… very brave.”

He nodded. “Let’s get to the police station,” he said. “I’ll tell them everything. I’ll get your friend out of there.”

* * *

Sebastian hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with Dottie, and she wasn’t going to leave him alone with Dottie either. He ripped up some of the sheets to make rope for her arms and legs (the muscles, at least, hadn’t been impostors), then doused her in cold water to make them tighter. Peggy didn’t think it would do much, but at least it kept Dottie occupied while Peggy got Sebastian to the police station. By the time they had gotten back to the main ballroom, Peggy’s head swimming and Sebastian limping from Peggy’s earlier beating, the police officer they sent to collect Dottie hadn’t had a chance. They found him three hours later tied up in Dottie’s bonds, a note to addressed to Peggy attached to his shirt. Peggy didn’t bother to read it.

Peggy had wanted to go with Sebastian to the police station, had wanted to be there while he told the whole sordid story to the cops and got Angie off the hook for whatever they were accusing her of. Instead, she threw up on the Chief of Police and was quickly rushed to the hospital. The doctors told her she’d gotten off lucky, with a fractured knee and a concussion. Peggy just nodded and smiled, despite how much it hurt her head. Lucky.

Angie came to visit her in the hospital, bringing a bouquet of roses. Peggy arched an eyebrow as Angie blushed. “Oh, these aren’t from me,” she said quickly, then coughed. “I mean, they are from me, but they’re from Captain America, too. He told me how you fought off a bunch of Hydra Agents to save him.”

Peggy closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?”

“He came into the police station just as they were going to arrest me, Peg, and he demanded that they let me go! He told them the whole story, about how a Hydra Agent had been trying to kill him, but that you had foiled the plot! And had almost caught her, but she got away at the last moment. But that he had to go because it was clear that Hydra hadn’t been defeated, and he would have to go back to Europe and bring down Hydra from within!” Angie sounded star-struck. Peggy winced. “Anyway, he said you were his best girl, but he couldn’t risk coming to your hospital room himself, and asked me to bring you some roses and tell you that he appreciated everything you did for him, Peggy.”

“That’s— That’s so kind,” Peggy settled on. “Thank you, Angie.”

“Are you going back to Hollywood after you get better?” Angie asked, putting the vase of roses next to Peggy’s bed. 

Peggy nodded, then winced and reminded herself not to do that again until her head cleared. “Yes, I have responsibilities there.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew Captain America!” Angie said. “I must have sounded like such an idiot to you!”

Peggy reached out her hand to take Angie’s. “No, of course not. Captain America… he’s really something else, isn’t he?” She put on a brave smile.

“He really is,” Angie agreed.


End file.
